"I can't give you one, child, for they don't belong to me," answered Helen, arrested by the wistful face, over which her words brought a shadow of disappointment.
"I thought maybe you lived in this house, or knew the folks, and I do want one of them flowers dreadful bad," said the girl, regarding the gay tulips with a look of intense desire.
"I wish I could give you one, but it would be stealing, you know. Perhaps if you go and ask, the owner may let you have one, there are so many."
And having offered all the consolation in her power, Helen went on, busy with a certain disappointment of her own, which just then weighed very heavily on her girlish heart.
Half an hour later, as she came down the street on the opposite side, she saw the same girl sitting on a door-step, still gazing at the tulips with hopeless admiration.
The child looked up as she approached, and recognizing the pretty young lady who had spoken kindly to her, smiled and nodded so confidingly, that Helen could not resist stopping to say,—
"Did you ask over there?"
"Yes, ma'am, but the girl said, 'No,' and told me to clear out; so I come over here to set and look at the pretties, since I can't have none," she answered, with a patient sigh.
"You shall have some!" cried Helen, remembering how easily she could gratify the innocent longing of the poor child, and feeling a curious sympathy with all disappointed people. "Come with me, dear; there is a flower shop round the corner, and you shall have a posy of some sort."
Such wonder, gratitude and delight shone in Betty's face, that Helen felt rejoiced for her small kindness. As they walked, she questioned her about herself, and quite won her heart by the friendly interest expressed in Betty's mother, Betty's kitten, and Betty's affairs generally.